


Break a Leg

by bonnieblue88



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassins & Hitmen, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonnieblue88/pseuds/bonnieblue88
Summary: Regina is hired to kill a man, and the unexpected happens. Maybe she can stop ending the lives of others and finally begin her own.A story about the desire to change...starting now.Barry AU *Will add characters, ratings, etc. as they apply with addition of new chapters.*
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Break a Leg

Frowning at the mirror of the dimly lit bathroom, Regina takes a moment to appraise herself. She’s an attractive woman. It’s not really a matter of ego or conceit, although she would certainly buy herself a drink if the opportunity arose. Her hair remains lush and richly colored. Her forehead is line free. No crow’s feet to note. She muses whether she looks so fresh-faced because she never smiles with her eyes. It’s curious that this youthful façade does not belie the bone-deep exhaustion lurking underneath. As she continues her exam, she thinks she spots a new grey hair. It’s oddly reassuring. Perhaps time and her life are marching forward after all.

Hearing her phone ring, she sighs and re-enters the larger hotel suite. She crosses the room to the brunette man sprawled on the bed and gives him a quick shake. At his lack of response, she nods and moves to answer her phone. Knowing there would only be one person calling her, she rolls her eyes and answers.

“Mother.”

“Hello darling. Is it done?”

“Yes, of course it’s done, mother. I’m nothing if not a professional.”

“Don’t get snippy with me, Regina. It’s beneath both of us. Now then, onto the next one! I have two words for you. Los Angeles.”

Regina frowns and begins disassembling the silencer from her gun. “Los Angeles.”

“Yes darling, the city that never sleeps!”

“That’s New York, mother.”

Cora, ignoring the correction, continues. “Are you familiar with the Fairy Godmothers?”

“No mother, I can’t say that I am.”

“They’re a gang of sorts. Protection racket. Guns. Drugs. The whole game. Manipulative little gnats. Horrible dress sense, but they are the real deal. They’re based out of Los Angeles and are headed by a horrid little woman named Blue.”

Regina shuts her eyes, mentally cursing herself for not being born to school teachers or something as equally pedestrian. Normal. Which would not include traveling to that damnable city to meet with members of a gang named after fairy tale characters. “Los Angeles is quite far, mother.” She looks down at her black trench coat and black heeled boots. “And I’m not sure I currently have the proper attire for it.”

“Oh shush. You’ll make due as always. As I was saying, Blue and the Fairy Godmothers are big time and big money. This could be our happy ending, Regina.”

Regina lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Of course, mother. When do you need me?”

She can hear Cora’s grin through the phone. “Excellent darling. Your flight leaves tonight at 6 sharp. Your ticket and directions to the meeting location and your hotel are in your inbox, and I’ll have a car waiting for you at the airport.”

Regina hurriedly checks her inbox, knowing there’s a catch. There always is with her mother. She pauses. “Will the car at LAX be nice?”

“Oh you silly girl, you’re flying into Orange County, not LAX.”

And there it is. The catch. “Mother, that’s like a 2-hour drive from the meeting location! Is this … is this because it’s cheaper?”

“No no, of course not darling. This is smarter. Cover our tracks.”

“How much cheaper was it?”

“That’s enough, Regina.” Cora snaps. “Now then. Big smiles. You have a flight to get ready for!” Cora ends the call before Regina can get another word in to disagree. She stares morosely ahead. “It was definitely because it was cheaper.”

***

Regina enters the parking structure attached to the Orange County airport, searching for her car. She’s still wearing her black trench coat, black boots, black blouse, black…Jesus she’s a cliché. Whatever, she’s a fabulously fashionable cliché. She searches through the row of cars, scanning the license plates to locate her mother’s pick for her. ZYX-4223. ZYX-42….23. It’s a fucking PT Cruiser. A fucking purple PT Cruiser. It’s not even an inconspicuous pick. It's so shockingly hideous as to be quite memorable. As if to answer her internal rantings, her phone rings.

“Did you find the vehicle okay, darling? Lovely little thing, right?”

She violently exhales what must certainly be literal steam from her nose before answering. “Yes, of course, mother.”

“Yes, I thought you would like it, dear. Now then, after you meet Blue, don’t be too afraid to … sell yourself. You’re always so dreadfully morose. No one likes a “party-pooper”, darling.”

Halting her mental incineration of the damned car, she re-focuses on the call. “Why on earth do I need to “sell myself” mother?”

Cora ignores the question. “You should bring up that time with that Nottingham fellow. The sheriff?”

Regina frowns. “You mean the man whose di-…equipment…I set on fire?”

“Precisely. I think this would be something that Blue might be quite intrigued by. Just so she knows that you would go there. That your limits are flexible.”

“But why can’t I just listen to her and get the job done? Like usual.”

“Obviously you have to listen, Regina! I’m not saying you shouldn’t listen. But if the opportunity presents itself, Blue is the type of person where a little…nod to immolation could tip the scales in our favor. That’s all, darling. I’m just trying to be helpful. So that you can be your best self.”

Regina can feel a migraine forming. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “But I don’t want to set anyone on fire again, mother. It was all quite unpleasant. The smells were ghastly and it wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“Quit being vulgar, dear, and stop with all of the whining. This is big, Regina – it’s the Fairy Godmothers!”

***

Regina inches along in traffic while squinting against the damnable sun. “How could I fucking forget to bring sunglasses to Southern California?” Idiot. A motorcycle whizzes past her, splitting the lane, deepening the scowl already semi-permanently affixed to her face. Fucking L.A.

She finally arrives to a quite modest house in Glendale. A pink house. With rather immodest cars parked in the drive. Regina is guided through the house by an excitable (Australian?) blonde dressed in a modest sun dress. With a tattoo on her neck. A tattoo of…she can’t even be bothered to continue caring. The blonde keeps eyeing her with undisguised interest and Regina is a bit unnerved.

“I’m Tinkerbell! But everyone calls me Tink.”

“Regina.”

“My absolute pleasure, Gina.” Tink replies with the utmost sincerity.

“Don’t call me that!” Regina snaps back.

Tink laughs with a wink. “Sure thing, Gina. Blue will be out in a quick sec! We’re going to do this in the back house if you don’t mind.” As they walk through the house, Regina eyes a room containing some sort of religious devotional. With … children? “Blue is praying right now. Are you a big church goer?”

“No.”

“Blue is very devoted to it. As are the other ladies. _I call them the nuns.”_ She pats Regina on the back during her attempt at a private joke. “Blue was verrry persistent that I try it, but, it’s … not really my thing. Although, I don't tell her that!” She ends with a conspiratorial wink. Regina shifts uncomfortably away from Tink and follows her into the back house to meet Blue.

Blue was a beautiful, but pinched-looking brunette, who looked either like a she was a great version of 45 or terrible version of 25. With the dress sense of someone 55. “Having a connection with our lord and savior relaxes you. I don’t think many people realize this, but you only live your life on the surface. When you have a relationship with God, you go beneath that surface and truly find your purpose. We have someone who can guide you through it. Tink does it…”

Tink cuts in with over-exaggerated sincerity. “I’m a changed woman.”

“See? Changed her life. You should do it.”

Regina is standing stiffly at attention, unable to produce more than a forced grimace at this absolutely insane bullshit. As Blue continues to imperiously espouse the virtues of the Christian faith, Tink takes this as a cue to start their presentation.

“Thank you, Blue. Truly inspiring as always.” She gives a few claps and turns back to Regina. “We contacted Cora because we have a…confidential situation that needs a delicate touch.” She lifts up her laptop and pans it around the room. “Can everyone see this okay? Brilliant. This gentleman is Killian Jones.” The computer contains a driver’s license photograph of Killian Jones, a quite attractive brunette with dark blue eyes. “He’s a personal trainer in Los Feliz. And quite the looker, am I right?” Tink smirks to Regina in yet another conspiratorial aside. Regina remains confused as to Tink’s continued attentions. Blue sharply glances over to Tink prompting her to look abashed and continue. 

“Killian has been _training_ one of our former flock, Astrid, for a few years give or take.” Blue’s expression is thunderous. “Over the past month these sessions have become more frequent. Blue requested that I follow her and I discovered they were taking up in a Holiday Inn Express in Studio City.” Tink is getting really excited now and begins wildly gesticulating with her hands to re-enact her adventures. “So I snuck in, hid this lipstick camera in the room and got this tasty footage!”

Tink presses play on the laptop, showing grainy footage of Killian and Astrid quite close. Fucking. Enthusiastically. Blue is fuming.

“Why would I want to see this, Tinkerbell! Turn it off!”

“Blue, I just wanted to give Regina-” She beams at Regina. “-the full…”

“She gets it. You already said they are taking up in a hotel, why show the footage? You are just impressed with yourself for planting the camera.” Blue sneers.

Regina is getting increasingly uncomfortable and wants this to end. Immediately. “Ladies, thank you for this colorful…presentation. Am I quite correct in assuming that you want this Mr. Jones gone?”

Tink again beams at Regina. “So smart. Yes, Gina. We’d pay you a –“

Regina cuts her off. “DON’T call me that. Cora takes care of the money, you don’t need to give me anything directly. I just need his photograph and address, and he will be disposed of in the next few days. I find it beneficial to engage in a bit of reconnaissance to expedite the job in a clean and efficient manner.”

“That sounds wonderful, Gina! And Blue would like it immensely if he suffers. We want him to suffer, yes?” She glances over at Blue for confirmation.

“Yes.” Blue seethes.

The room falls awkwardly silent. Regina clears her throat and volunteers, “I…uh….I once set a gentlemen’s dick on fire.”

Blue turns, aghast. “What? Why? Who would want that and why on earth would you tell us that?”

Tink turns to Regina and gently asks, “Can’t you just shoot him?”

Regina stands quite confused “Well…yes, but if you want Mr. Jones to suffer–“

“Being shot is quite painful, Gina. Have you ever been shot? I have… twice. It’s very painful. I couldn’t go to the bars for weeks!”

Blue cuts in “Anything is better than setting him or any part of his anatomy on fire. I’m not a heathen. This is an upstanding organization. We hold ourselves to a _higher_ standard.” Blue looks up as she emphasizes higher. Regina rolls her eyes.

Noticing the escalating tension in the room, Tink cuts in, “Alright ladies, if that’s all, I’ll walk Gina out.”

“You really don’t have to. This house is quite small. I can navigate it effectively on my own.”

Tink looks scandalized. “It’s the polite thing to do!”

***

Regina arrives at her hotel. Well, motel? What’s the difference between a hotel and motel? Is it the common spaces? The lobby? She cuts off her runaway thoughts. Regardless, it’s a shithole. As she gazes at the comforter draped over the bed, she visualizes the various stains and the scenarios leading to such stains. Her spiraling anxiety is interrupted by ringing phone. She doesn’t look at the call screen before answering. “Yes mother?”

“Darling, are you all checked in at the hotel?” A hotel then. “It’s lovely isn’t it? I just spoke with the FG, and they said it went swimmingly.”

“Of course, mother.”

“This is going to open up all sorts of doors for us. Hits. Kidnappings. Thefts. Whatever, they call us. Keeps their hands clean. We could become their go-to wet work consultancy. From there, maybe the Wizards or the Ogres…the sky is the limit!” 

Regina paces the room and picks up a quite hideous brown vase, placed in an off-center location on the chest of drawers. “You keep saying "we", "us". Seems like this is only good for you.” Who would purposefully place the vase off center? Is it some sort of artistic statement? Why are there no flowers?

“Regina. That’s quite disrespectful and I’ll not have you talking back to me or questioning my methods. I got you in a position that other people would kill to be in. Pun intended, darling.”

Hearing the self-satisfied smirk through the phone, Regina furiously hangs up, and throws the vase across the room. The resulting crash ameliorates her mood somewhat, and she sits on the edge of the assuredly sex-stained bed, folding in on herself. She feels like the loneliest woman in the world.


End file.
